Nightmare Factory
by Mystical Authoress
Summary: AU. When a man with black sunglasses goes and takes Yuna away suddenly one day, Leroy follows them into the old, abandoned factory to find her. Cassandra Gladstone breaks into the same factory for the sake of information about the Nightmare Factory's real objectives. When their paths collide, neither one will expect to find something that they find completely indescribable...
1. Chapter 1

**Author note: I do not own Count Cain: Godchild. Nor do I own the book that inspired me to write this, 'Project Cain' by Geoffrey Girard. Nor do any of those 'Let's Play: Outlast' videos that I watched on Youtube that also inspired me to write this. **

**...Why horror? At Christmas? I don't know how these ideas get into my head. The reason why I'm writing this fic is partially because of the fact that you guys have voted for something VERY DARK to be written-and that's rare coming from me because I usually write the general fantasy/adventure/drama-filled/lots-of-yaoi (I swear, only a few of my fanfics have het pairings...)/violence-filled stuff. But no, there's probably no chance of pairings here-and this will be my main fic to be working on besides 'Neverland' and 'That's How a Carnival Grows.' As for my 'Wonderland' AU, I will sporadically post up oneshots from that 'verse if any come to mind, but we'll just see how it goes. Again, don't expect any of my fanfics to be updated often-the only reason I'm able to do so now is because of the Christmas holiday season...**

**The main reason why I'm writing this fic is because I just, well, NEEDED TO WRITE IT. I don't like it when ideas as gripping as this get away from me, so I need to basically write it down ASAP before I end up mentally throwing the idea into oblivion. hopefully this will turn out well...**

**Main characters for this fic, by the way, are Gladstone and Leroy. ...This should be interesting, considering that I've never written anything that heavily involves the latter, but this also means that any constructive criticism regarding characters would be very nice. (I mean, I don't even know how old Leroy is...probably older than Maryweather, so perhaps twelve or thirteen?)**

**Warning: Dark fic (as dark as I can do it without scaring myself), so that means violence, gore (not too graphically described) mental/psychological stuff maybe, AU (It's kind of a modern AU, but obviously with a supernatural thing to it like 'Project Cain,' so...Modern Horror AU? 0_0), OCs, first time writing Horror stuff in a long while so please no flames if I'm screwing up something that should be scary, and...that's it for now.**

**Constructive Criticism would be great, and I hope that you read, review and enjoy! Thanks!**

* * *

_**Nightmare Factory**_

* * *

Leroy noticed the white-haired man with the black sunglasses for the past few times that he went to play in the defaced playground with Yuna, on the nice days when they didn't have to go pick-pocketing, fortunetelling or begging to get their money. He almost considered _not _taking his little sister to the park, because it was dark outside today and he feared that the strange sunglasses man would be around, but Yuna had insisted and he just couldn't say _no _to her. He wanted to make her smile, because their mother-possibly dead from over-drinking-couldn't provide for them.

He knew his life wasn't the greatest life to have. Pick-pocketing and begging were not honourable things to do. If he could, Leroy would try to get a job. The last time he did, though, he nearly got himself involved with shady drug dealers. That had given him the obvious idea that it was a _bad _idea to go looking for a job on the streets. Really bad idea. And so he had no choice but to pick pockets and beg other fellow civilians for money.

Looking around, he watched his little sister swing back and forth, laughing merrily. He took a step forward, to join her because it would be sad if he didn't play with her, but he felt something underneath his feet. Looking down, he caught the glimpse of a bill. A twenty-dollar bill, to be exact.

He couldn't believe his eyes at the sight. Picking it up silently, he examined it carefully. Money at this amount was not easily found on the ground or lying in the trash by someone else's mistake. He could buy some food with this, or maybe a cheap blanket to wrap Yuna with to help her keep warm. Winter was coming, after all, and he didn't want her to freeze to death.

A van door slammed itself closed.

Leroy was suddenly aware that there was _no _laughter of Yuna's resounding. He looked up, hastily stuffing the bill into his pocket, and realized that Yuna was-

_gone._

And a white-haired man with black sunglasses was walking around from the back of the van to the front, and Leroy _swore _that he heard muffled little screams coming from inside the van.

_"Yuna!"_

The man turned, took an apathetic look towards him, and then went inside the driver's side of the van and shut the door. The engine began to roar to life, and Leroy could do nothing but try to run after the van, no matter how stupid it looked like. He was not going to lose his sister. _Never. _

Leroy didn't bother screaming for Yuna-instead, he just kept running until his legs felt like they were on fire, invisible flames licking at them for a taste of his tired flesh. All the boy could hear for what seemed like eternity was his feet pounding against the pavement and his shallow, fast breathing, lungs dying for a real breath of air.

And then, after finally collapsing to his knees, he found himself in front of an old factory building, abandoned long ago. Or so it seemed in the beginning, at least.

He remembered walking past this building several times-and too many times he _swore _he saw flickering lights. He just thought that a bunch of drug dealers made their business there, or threw drug parties there or whatever it was that they did. But then he saw someone in the window-at least, he _thought _he did. He could never figure out of this person in the window was a woman or a man-seemed almost a blend of both genders...but back then, Leroy swore that it was some stupid trick of the light, or of his mind, because there was no way that such odd-looking ghosts (or any sort of ghosts for that matter) existed.

But now...he was starting to get a little creeped out by the looks of the place. There were _more _flickering, bright lights, and as far as Leroy knew now...well, flickering lights were never good things from the beginning, after all. Wasn't that what predicted something bad about to happen in the movies? (Yes, Leroy had gone to the movies once with Yuna-they'd snuck into the back seats to watch what they soon realized was a horror movie, and Yuna had nightmares since.)

And as far as he knew-_that van, parked in front...-_Yuna was probably in there by now. Looking around, he didn't see any guards. He didn't even see anyone watching from the-

...Scratch the last thought. Someone _was _watching from the window. Leroy rubbed his eyes, pushing coarse locks of his dirty-blond hair behind his ear, before looking up again. No one was there anymore.

A trick of the light, he finally decided. Just a trick of the light...right?

He decided not to linger on those thoughts anymore. He had to bust into that building, find his sister, and get the hell out of there before anyone else that belonged to that buidling found out that Yuna was out of their grasp. There was no way he was going to lose her to whoever lingered inside that place-never.

* * *

"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, _damn it..." _

It was at a time like this when Cassandra couldn't help but wonder why he had decided to do this (definitely stupid, in his honest opinion) plan of sneaking into that old, abandoned, factory building that was definitely _not _abandoned, as soon discovered earlier after he climbed into the build through a window. The window had shut afterward, and he cursed-as far as he knew so far, that had been the only way out of the factory. Now he had not just the objectives of investigating this place thoroughly, but now he had to find a way to get out as well.

He wouldn't have investigated this place in the beginning. Never. He would have sent a private investigator to find out about this place-and thus, he did so.

The investigator never returned.

A human arm, however, did-right on his doorstep a week later.

Cassandra didn't call the police. Sometimes, he felt that he should have. Instead, he just studied the arm carefully. Whatever had cut off the arm had used a serrated knife-he was sure of it, from all of those mystery television shows he watched late at night, to all those forensics books he borrowed. At least, he thought it was close enough. What kind of serrated knife? He would never know.

He was no official detective-he was just simply interested in all of this 'Nightmare Factory' business because no one had ever really figured out what they did. Some claimed that they did illegal experiments behind the government's back, and others claimed that they _were _working with the government, but Gladstone could never really be so sure. Between work at the office, eating, and sleeping for the past three months, he'd been doing nothing but simply investigating the background of the 'Nightmare Factory' as much as he could without anyone noticing. He couldn't let anyone notice, because that would mean they would be suspicious of him, and he was sure that keeping a dead arm in his home and breaking into a factory were both illegal.

Of course, the fact of that being _illegal _didn't stop him. No, he wanted to know more. That was why he sent that investigator (probably now dead, by his judgement) to break into the factory. Gladstone had been ready to pay a tidy sum for that-all for the sake of _information. _Of course, that investigator was dead (and damn it, it was so hard to get a hold of that one-how hard could it get to find another-) and so now he figured he might as well do it all himself.

Hence the break in. Hence the recording camera he carried with him (and it was on night vision mode, too, so he could see better in the dark), as well as the fact that he was now running for his life.

He was so sure someone was following him. Someone _had _to be-he swore something was breathing down his neck.

What it was, however, he didn't know-he did not wish to look back to see a possibly half-dead thing running after him. There were rumours that those half-dead, half-alive (Zombies? Was that even possible?) were lingering around the factory, forced into insanity by possible experiments that the scientists of the 'Nightmare Factory' performed on them, and that they ate people alive. Cassandra did not wish to be eaten at any time now. He just wanted to find some evidence, and then get the hell out of this place. That was all he needed, all he wanted, and nothing more.

He ran into the nearest room, thankfully empty, and then saw a nearby locker. Hesitating for a moment, he figured he might as well try to stuff himself in there-just in case whoever it was pursuing him came into this room... It was risky, but he had to take a chance. Struggling with the locker handle, he jerked the door open and nearly threw himself into the surprisingly spacious locker, closing the door afterwards.

His heart hammered in his chest-and he tried to tell himself to breathe, to calm down, but it was extremely hard to and-

The door opened.

Not the locker door, of course, but the door that gave entrance to this room did.

He went completely still, nearly holding his breath. Closing his eyes, he didn't try to _see _his possible pursuer-instead, he listened. The breathing of the other occupant of the room was ragged, shallow, as if it had just finished a rough desert marathon. Cassandra after a moment finally, mentally, told himself to 'man up' and he let his eyes flicker open. It was silent, now, and perhaps whoever had been here just left-

_-Big mistake._

Two gaping, wide orbs burned into his vision, irises a translucent beige. The figure seemed almost colourless, save for the long, ash-blond hair that trailed far past its shoulders. Gladstone wasn't sure for a moment whether the figure was male or female-even if it was completely in the nude as he suspected... The skin was a ghostly, creamy colour-and those hands-were those hands/talons/claws-

His stomach nearly turned over at the hands, dripping a dark red. This creature, this _thing _had killed something or someone earlier. Was it bloodthirsty?

_No, no, no, no, no... _Gladstone knew he was no religious man, but he prayed in his head anyway. He did not want to die, he did not want that creature to open up the locker he was residing in and rip out his organs like all supernatural things did in those dreaded horror movies... (Gladstone swore that those horror movies were getting to his head-too many times lately he'd been waking up screaming and that was not good...unfortunately, it seemed to be the only way for him to gain endurance in preparation for all the gore and violence that could await him in this rundown factory, considering how busy he was with work and all.)

The figure made a small sound, as if it was smiling, and he heard a small _tap. _The figure was poking the locker with one long talon. _His _locker.

He closed his eyes, expecting the worst to happen.

Nothing did-actually, something did happen, but it was not what he predicted. The figure merely placed something on a nearby table, and then slowly sauntered out of the room.

He stayed in that locker for a while, unsure of whether the creature would come back. Finally, he opened the locker door and climbed out, heaving a deep sigh of relief as he let a hand brush through greasy brown locks (and he reminded himself to wash his hair later once he got out of this damned place and back home-if he ever got out, that is). Glancing at the bottle, he read the label carefully...

"Drink me." He let out a groan, laced with disgust and confusion. "Don't tell me this is some screwed-up Wonderland in that thing's eyes..." He tucked the tiny bottle into his front coat pocket-it could be _evidence, _he convinced himself-and he took out a notebook and pen from the inside pockets of his coat. Thank goodness he was prepared. He hesitated, before beginning to write.

_Just got into this damned factory. Window shut itself when I got in through there-couldn't open it, so I need to find a way out...something ran after me only minutes after starting this investigation and I was stuck in a locker for a good amount of time...it's gone now. For now. Can't waste time here-need to find as much information as I can and get the hell out of this place._

_...Can I even find a way out in the end? ...I don't want to know the possibility of failure here. Whatever the creature was that nearly killed me, there are probably more out there and I have to avoid them. Good thing I'm armed-if worst comes to worst, I'll have to shoot. If those things aren't vulnerable to bullets..._

_...Well, if that's the case, I'm screwed already._


	2. Chapter 2

**_II_**

Leroy struggled with opening the main doors for the third time. They weren't budging in the slightest. Letting out a grunt of frustration, he kicked the door once and then looked around a bit. If the main doors weren't open, it meant that whoever went into the building with Yuna probably locked the doors...or went inside another way...

Looking above him, he noticed that there was scaffolding. Scaffolding meant that this building was seriously run down and in need of repair. Scaffolding also meant that there were ladders and open windows, which would make it easier for him to get inside the factory.

Deciding to take a chance, he began to saunter around the factory grounds, trying to find a nearby ladder against the scaffolding. His feet were still sore from running and also from kicking that door, but he wasn't going to give up on finding Yuna. He had to get her back before she got hurt, or killed, or done worse than that.

He immediately spotted a nearby ladder, and didn't care about whether the rungs of it were rotten. He ignored it, climbing up the ladder quickly and pulling himself onto the wooden scaffolding, creaking underneath him with every little step he took. One wrong step and he could fall if the wood underneath him became too unsteady and splintered into pieces.

He heard a slightly louder creak underneath him, and he froze. He nearly expected the scaffolding to start cracking, but it didn't. Letting out a sigh of relief, he quickly scampered over the scaffolding, looking for an open window.

There was one open window, to his right. He peeked through the window, hoping to get a glance of what was inside, but he could only see still shapes in the darkness. Praying that there were no security guards, he managed to crawl through the window and into the room.

The window slammed shut.

Leroy jumped at the sudden noise, turning to face the window he'd just passed through. Immediately, he grabbed onto the window, trying to pull it upwards, but it refused to budge. After a moment of struggling, he ceased trying to fight gravity, concluding that he would have to find another way out.

Groping his way through the darkness, he took quiet, tiny steps as he let his eyes get adjusted to the lack of lighting. Waving his hands around to see if he could grab onto a lamp or something, he nearly slipped on something circular-no, like a column, rather. Looking down, he picked it up, and feeling for some sort of button he ended up pressing something. Immediately, light burst into existence, extending itself from the flashlight he was holding. The boy had to blink a few times to get used to the new amount of lighting.

"That's weird..."

If someone had dropped a flashlight here and it was still working...did that mean that someone was in this run-down factory, too? But...who? He heard something rattling, all of a sudden, the sound of something bashing itself against metal. Leroy waved the flashlight around, in an attempt to find the source of the noise. Something a bit more coherent, some swearing, caught his attention, and he pointed the flashlight towards the source of _that _noise, illuminating a metal locker. It shook, as if something was contained in it, and then-

_"Curses!"_

A man, most likely in his early to mid-thirties, stumbled out of the locker and fell face-first to the ground.

"Finally," Leroy heard him utter under his breath as he got to his feet, "It's about time I got out of the bloody-" He stopped speaking as soon as he saw Leroy, and then dared to rub his eyes, trying to figure out if the person standing in front of him was real or was a ghost.

Both stood there, awkwardly staring at each other in silence. Finally, the older man spoke up after Leroy turned off the flashlight and turned it back on-to check if the man standing in front of him was real.

"Stop turning the flashlight on and off, will you? It gets annoying, and it's going to waste battery power." He snapped, walking towards him and snatching the flashlight back from Leroy. He then composed himself, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Who are you, boy? What are you doing here-let me guess, playing hide-and-seek, hm?"

"You're one to talk, with you locking yourself in there." The younger boy responded, crossing his arms. "Who are you?"

_"I_ asked first._ You_ answer." The older man muttered, crossing his arms. Leroy noticed too well that a messenger bag was slung over the man's shoulder. "What? Are you going to answer, boy?"

The younger boy rolled his eyes a bit, knowing too well that he had no choice. "Leroy." He finally spoke, his teeth gritting a bit in frustration. "My name is Leroy, and before you ask, my sister was kidnapped and brought here, alright!?"

The older man blinked, processing the information in his mind. "...Your sister was kidnapped?" He asked.

"Yes!" Leroy exclaimed, glaring daggers at the other. "She's been kidnapped and brought here, and I need to find her!"

The other said nothing for a moment, before letting out a breath. "If she's been brought here...that means they want to use her for their next experiment. They pick people off the streets-and they're pretty damn good at it, if I say so myself. No one can ever find a trace of them, really..."

The boy couldn't believe his own ears. "Experiment?" He repeated. "You mean-you mean they're going to go and cut her open or something?"

The older man said nothing. Leroy, frustrated by the man's silence, grabbed him firmly by the wrist.

_"Tell me!"_

He was reluctant to speak, but he finally answered.

"Yes, Leroy. They could do whatever they want with her-provided she's drugged enough or restrained enough..."

Leroy let go of the older man as soon as he heard the word _'yes.' _Holding his head in his hands, he backed away a bit, shaking his head.

"I can't..." Leroy looked up at the other, letting his hands fall to his side. "I can't let them hurt Yuna! She's the only family I've got left, and-" He didn't really know what to say, until- "Who are_ they? _Why do they want_ her_ specifically for their weird experiment things!?"

The older man looked a bit frustrated with the boy's lack of knowledge. "Have you never heard of them, boy?" He started, shaking his head as he let out a sigh. "They probably work for the organization known as _Nightmare Factory. _I've been researching them for the past three months. All I really know is that they do a lot of...considerably inhuman experimentation. No one knows whether they work with the government or against it."

Leroy was skeptical about the older man's sufficient amount of knowledge. "And...how would know exactly that they would be _here _of all places?"

"I found out that they were using this place. It's called _research, _boy, and I can tell you I did a bloody lot of research to get here." The older man snapped back.

"I have a name, you know-"

Before Leroy could continue, there were footsteps-soft, padded ones. If he hadn't stopped speaking, he knew he wouldn't have noticed whoever it was coming towards this room.

Both of them immediately went silent. Without warning, the older man started shoving himself back into the locker he'd just gotten himself out of.

"What are you doing-" Leroy started to say.

"Shut up!" The other snapped back, wedging himself into the locker. "Hide! It's coming back!"

"What do you mean-" He started, but the older man had already shut himself into the locker. Leroy didn't waste anymore time-he immediately looked around for a hiding spot, before choosing to obscure himself under a desk, hoping that no one would hear or see him. For a moment, Leroy couldn't hear anything but his own breathing.

The footsteps were not as quiet anymore. No, they were louder-_so much louder._

The boy tried to hold his breath, to barely make a sound as he inhaled and exhaled. He heard the footsteps come closer, as the screeching of fingernails over metal echoed for a brief moment before fading away. Leroy tried to guess that it was probably inspecting the locker that the older man hid inside. After a moment, footprints were heard again, coming closer, _closer, _towards where he was hiding. He held his breath, not wanting to give away any sound.

He didn't see anything at first, underneath the table. But then, he saw two bare, small (not like a child's feet, but a woman, rather-Leroy noticed these tiny details a lot) feet walking, obviously attached to ankles, and the ankles were attached to legs. Someone-_something _was searching. For what? Intruders? That could be possible-

Leroy shook his head slightly. He couldn't focus on that sort of thing right now-he had to be careful not to get caught. _It's hide and seek, _he told himself. _It's like a game of hide and seek. Don't make a sound..._

The feet left his view, after a few moments, and soon the footsteps started to echo in the room again. Instead of getting louder, though, they became softer, _so much softer, _until Leroy couldn't hear a thing.

The moment of silence afterwards was broken by the _creak_ of a locker opening, and Leroy got out from underneath the desk to see the older man stepping out of the locker, letting out a relieved sigh.

"That was too close.." He shook his head, before turning towards Leroy. "How did you get in here?"

"Erm...through a window. The main doors weren't working..." The boy coughed, a reaction from the dust underneath the desk, "The thing is, it shut behind me after I got in, though, and I couldn't open it again afterwards."

"I see. The same happened to myself as well..." The older man looked around, before letting out a breath. "I haven't told you my name yet, have I?"

The other shook his head. "No. You didn't."

"Alright, then." The older man paused, brushing dark brown locks out of his amber eyes. "My name is Cassandra Gladstone. And-" He glared a bit at Leroy, "Don't you dare laugh at the bloody first name-my mother was _mad_ at the time when she named me, because she was obsessed with having a girl as her child."

Leroy didn't laugh, despite the first name being so feminine for a man. "Oh."

The older man shook his head. "I don't need any bloody sympathy. It doesn't help anyone, really." He let out a sigh before he turned towards the boy again. "Look, maybe we can work together. I'm trying to get information about this Nightmare Factory. You're looking for your sister. If you help me investigate this place, I'll help you find your little sister, and then we can get the hell out of here. Sounds like a good deal, boy?"

Leroy hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure if he could trust this man-he was a _stranger,_ and he seemed desperate, maybe dangerous. But then again, Gladstone had knowledge about this place-or at least, knowledge about the people that worked here. If that knowledge could be used to find_ Yuna_...then...

"Alright. I'm with you."


End file.
